


so i run now to the things they said could restore me, restore life the way it should be

by reachedthebitterend



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Fluffy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, questionable medical procedures, slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 09:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23969041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reachedthebitterend/pseuds/reachedthebitterend
Summary: five times that michael takes care of himself by trying to take care of alex
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 10
Kudos: 140





	so i run now to the things they said could restore me, restore life the way it should be

**Author's Note:**

> posted on tumblr on 02/28/20

## one.

Figures that the thing to finally bring him to his knees isn’t the debilitating headache he’d been sporting for three days, accompanied by episodes of blurry vision and ringing in his ears and mood swings, but opening the door to the Airstream to find Alex, nose and cheeks flushed, forehead clammy, sneezing up a storm into the crook of his elbow before he looks at Michael and tries to smile.

“Ready to go?” He asks with a stuffy nose.

Michael feels a sharp spike of pain radiate down the back of his neck and he exhales roughly.

“We’re not going anywhere,” he says, and Alex just gives him a confused look.

Probably because Michael was the one who had begged and pleaded until he caved and told him that he would love to go with him to his birthday party.

Michael tried not to think about the fact that the only reason he caved was probably because he was going overseas into an active warzone, and there was a very real chance that he wouldn’t make it back.

“You’re sick,” Michael says, and Alex just gives him an exasperated look like he’d had this conversation with someone else.

“I took medicine,” Alex says, like that fixes anything.

“You need to rest,” Michael says, and winces only slightly when he takes a step towards him and the sun glares brightly off of the windshield of his truck.

Alex narrows his eyes at him, but before he can ask him anything, Michael is reaching for him, wrapping his fingers around his wrists and pulling until Alex is taking a few stumbling steps forward.

“Come on,” Michael says. “I’m only offering you this get out of jail free card once.”

It doesn’t take much more to convince him up the stairs and into the Airstream.

He sneezes several more times, and coughs sounding so terrible that Michael is actually worried for a second that he’s going to cough up a lung.

He pushes Alex to sit down on top of the bed, and Alex leans back a little, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small white plastic bottle with a red cap.

“Here,” he says and tosses the bottle to Michael. “That should help with the headache.”

Michael licks his lips. “What headache?”

Alex rolls his eyes, and then turns his face away to sneeze into the crook of his elbow before he turns back to face Michael. “You winced when you opened the door. And you’re wincing right now.”

Michael looks at the bottle in his hands, and then back at Alex who seems like he’s ready to fight Michael over this.

Michael doesn’t think that the pills will actually help him, but he takes them anyway, just to appease Alex.

Alex smiles at him until he has to turn his face to the side and coughs again.

Michael walks over to the small kitchenette area and thinks about how he’s never actually been sick, but that maybe something warm would be soothing.

He has green tea because he likes how it tastes.

He makes the tea, and he can feel Alex watching him, his gaze heavy and warm, and if Michael had been feeling marginally better, and if Alex had been fifty percent less sniffly, he would’ve forgotten all about the tea and crawled into Alex’s lap.

As it is, he just, walks back over to Alex with the mug of tea, and pulls his phone out of his pocket once he’s sure that Alex has the mug secured in his hands.

“I’m going to call Isobel, you drink that,” he says pointing towards the mug.

Alex gives him a brief smile and obediently lifts the mug to his mouth.

Michael just rolls his eyes and turns around, walking out of the Airstream.

The light doesn’t hurt as much as it did earlier and Michael just leans back, closing the door with his weight and then inhales deeply before he calls Isobel, lifting the phone to his ear.

“Please tell me that you are on your way,” Isobel answers the phone without saying hello.

“I’m not going to be able to make it Izzy,” he says, trying to inject as much regret as he can into the words.

“Did you get stood up?” she asks flatly.

Michael just rolls his eyes, “I’ve been battling this major pain in the ass headache for three days now, and I thought I’d be better by today, but it just keeps getting worse.”

Isobel is silent for a loaded moment, “I usually have to strong arm you to get you to take care of yourself, you must be really sick.”

“I don’t think that I can drive without getting sick-” Michael starts and Isobel makes a highly distressed sound.

“I don’t need to know, just,” she sighs, and Michael can hear what she’s not saying. It’s going to be the first time since they all found each other again that they would not celebrate their birthday together. “It’s going to be weird without you, but take care of yourself, please.”

Michael nods his head, and Isobel hangs up without waiting for a real response.

Michael exhales and leans his head back against the door, wincing when he opens his eyes again, but he stays outside for a bit longer, before he heads back inside.

The first thing he notices is that the mug is empty and on the counter, the second is that Alex is fast asleep, buried beneath Michael’s sheets, still wearing his boots.

Michael tugs them off his feet, and he doesn’t really try to convince himself that it would be a bad idea to lie down next to Alex.

Michael settles himself on the bed, and he’s a little too close to the edge, but before he can move closer, Alex is moving, and turning so that his back is towards the wall, leaving a small space for Michael to move into so that he’s not falling off the bed.

Michael pushes into Alex’s space, and drops his head to Alex’s chest, feeling him warm and so solid in front of him, sometimes he wonders if the pain that he’s in when Alex is gone is worth these moments when they are together, and the answer is always yes.

Michael feels Alex’s arm settle in the crook of his waist, and he just breathes out deeply, still fast asleep.

Michael closes his eyes and inhales his scent so fresh and clean. It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep.

## two.

Michael only notices because Alex is babbling and Alex _never_ babbles.

Stammers and stays silent, but never just, word vomits all over the place.

It’s been weeks since the last time that Michael actually slept. He’s been running on fumes and acetone and the occasional cup of coffee, but no matter how much he keeps running himself into the ground to figure out how to help Max, nothing seems to be working.

Kyle forces them all to take a break, but Michael just finds himself down in his bunker.

Which is where Alex finds him.

Out of everyone that Michael expected to find him, Alex was the last person, since he’s been AWOL since after their interrupted conversation at the Airstream, and he hadn’t been there when Michael had finally made it back.

Michael was sure that Alex had been avoiding him, so he doesn’t immediately turn towards him, when he drops to the floor, only stumbling slightly.

“Guerin, you’re not going to believe this,” he starts, moving closer, and Michael can hear the tapping of him typing something out on a tablet. “Well, maybe you are going to believe it after all, who better than you to know exactly how much of a fucking monster my father is. But Kyle was surprised even though my father did try to kill him.”

Michael has to look up at him at that, and Alex looks at him at the same time, a look on his face like he’s saying, _I know right_?

Michael’s brow furrows and Alex turns back to the tablet.

“But anyway, I went through all the Caulfield files and hit a dead end. So I decided to go a different route, and have been playing the money trail, since my father lost all government funding a couple of years ago, and there is a name that keeps popping up, Phershed, which is a dummy corporation, and also an anagram for Shepherd. So I dug up all of the information that I could find on it, which was ridiculously easy, whoever is covering this up is an amateur at best, which either says a lot about my father and his ego or that the government knows he’s still doing what he’s doing, but they don’t care-”

Michael turns fully to face him and actually looks at him, cataloging what he sees, the jittery movements, the excessive blinking, the bags staining the bottom of his eyes, looking like they have their own zip code, and the excessive word flow, that contains more words that Alex has ever said to him, in the entire time that they’ve known each other. 

“-but it could be a mistranslation since I’m more fluent in the Arabic languages than the other Germanic ones, but I still say that we should check it out-”

“When was the last time that you slept?” Michael asks Alex, interrupting his word flow, and ignoring the little voice at the back of his head that is calling him a hypocrite in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Kyle’s.

Alex looks taken aback and he tilts his head to the side and then gives Michael a once over before lifting his eyebrow. 

“Pot. Kettle,” he says, tucking his tablet beneath his arm and swaying a little in place like his equilibrium is shot to hell.

Michael wonders how he got down the ladder without falling.

“I’m not the one talking about infiltrating a facility in the middle of nowhere desert in Nevada.”

Alex sends him a bright smile that short circuits his brain.

“You were listening,” he says, brightly. “We can make it there in a couple of-”

Michael looks over his lab table and finds a ball made up of hundreds of rubber bands, and he picks it up and tosses it at Alex without warning.

Alex who was turned around to face gunmen with an unimpressed look, startles and his tablet drops to the floor with a clatter as he tries and fails to catch the ball.

It bounces and then rolls behind him, and Alex gives Michael an exasperated look.

“Why did you do that?”

“You’re sleep deprived,” he says, once again ignoring Kyle’s voice in his head. “Your balance is shot. You have no hand eye coordination. And you’ve been babbling at me. When have you _ever_ babbled at _anyone_?”

Alex rolls his eyes, and very nearly stumbles to the side.

“I’m much better sleep deprived than you are on your best day,” Alex says, all cocky tilting his head at Michael, which shouldn’t be as hot as it is, especially considering the fact that Alex is swaying on his feet.

“Okay,” Michael says. “If you can take me down, then we’ll go to Nevada.”

Alex gives him a highly incredulous look, “Guerin, I can take you down in my sleep.”

Michael’s highly competitive nature kicks in, and he nods his head, “Alright, then put your money where your mouth is.”

He moves from the table and Alex takes a few steps back to keep a careful distance between them.

“What happens if you win?” Alex asks, but sounds more like he’s just humoring Michael.

Michael shrugs a little, “ _When_ I win, you’ll have to take a nap.”

Alex gives him a baleful look, complete with a pout, “Fine.”

He gets into a fighting stance, and Michael just rolls his shoulders and holds his arms out, “Well, I’m waiting.”

Alex makes a low growling sound and attacks.

Michael has been on the receiving end of some sloppy drunk fights, and Alex sleep deprived is like a man who’s had one too many to drink.

He swings and Michael ducks and uses a move he’s seen Alex use to get him out of fights, wrapping his arms around Alex’s chest as he turns with the power of his swing, and then hooking his leg over one of Alex’s before he leans back hard and forces them both down on the floor.

Alex struggles, hands trying to loosen Michael’s hold on him, but he’s so tired that it feels mostly insubstantial.

Michael is also keeping him mostly in place with his ability, which is another way he can tell that Alex needs to sleep, since he always seems to know when Michael is using his ability like he has a sensor in his head that goes off.

Alex stops fighting him almost immediately, leaning his head back on Michael’s shoulder and making a low mournful sound.

“I’m a trained airman who has been in active combat,” he says. “And you’re a civilian whose biggest opponents are dickbags that hang around a bar all night.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “You need to sleep.”

“Obviously,” Alex says. “But I can’t fall asleep, so I’ve just been working, thinking that maybe, if I figure this whole thing out, I’ll be able to go to sleep without hearing that damn alarm.”

Michael tightens his arms around Alex and then lets him go, pushing away from him and letting Alex fall back on to his back.

Michael gets to his feet in one swift movement, but Alex just stays one the ground, looking up at the ceiling.

Michael can feel the lethargic energy wanting to drag him under, more than it had earlier in the day before he decided to keep himself busy, because like Alex he can’t seem to stop himself from hearing that damn alarm every single time that he closes his eyes.

Alex hums a little and Michael stares at him as he closes his eyes.

“Sometimes it helps to pretend that things aren’t as fucked up as they really are, but sometimes I can’t fool myself into believing that nothing has changed. It’s not like I can just come here and ask you to help me go to sleep anymore.”

“But you can-” Michael starts but Alex shakes his head, sighing as he blinks heavily, looking up at Michael briefly before his eyes fall shut again.

“No, I really can’t,” he says on a breath, seeming like he’s just going to fall asleep on the uncomfortable concrete floor.

Michael licks his lips and stares at him for a beat longer, before he decides that maybe for one night they can both pretend that everything isn’t as fucked up as it is. Michael could use a nap, and Alex is definitely about to fall asleep on the floor.

“Come on,” he says, and Alex makes a low sound in complaint.

“You’re not going to sleep on the floor,” Michael says as he crouches down by Alex’s head. 

“I don’t want to drive home,” he whines a little, turning his face to face Michael, eyes fluttering open and close. “Too far. Would you take me-?”

“You can stay here,” Michael says, licking his lips again, and pretending like the words _take me_ didn’t just put a slew of images in his head. “In the Airstream, I mean.”

Alex’s eyes open and he looks at Michael as serious as he has been the whole time he’s been here.

“With you?” He asks, voice coming out trembling and hopeful and unlike anything that Michael has ever heard coming out of Alex’s mouth.

“Yeah,” he says softly and Alex just keeps staring at him. “Let’s go.”

It takes more careful coaxing to get Alex up the ladder and into the Airstream, and by the time he manages to get him settled into his bed in a way that Michael had never expected to see him in ever again.

It sends his heart into a tailspin as he stares at Alex getting comfortable in his sheets, pressing his face into Michael’s pillow and inhaling like he’s searching for Michael’s scent.

Alex stops moving and sighs, and Michael blinks his eyes a few times and feels more tired than he has in a while.

Usually he has to knock himself out, and even then the nightmares drag him out of it not even an hour later.

Michael crawls into the bed beside Alex, who turns to face him, eyes blinking open for a second, before he smiles and closes his eyes again.

Michael settles down next to him, and lies his head down on the pillow staring at him until his eyes get too heavy and he falls asleep.

-

When he wakes up, Alex is gone, which is typical, and he’s been asleep for over thirty-six hours, which is not.

He searches for his phone, and finds it on top of the counter, pinning down a red folder. 

He gets up, stretching and walks over to the counter, grabbing his phone and wincing at the amount of missed calls and text messages he has, and looks at the folder.

On top of it there’s a sticky note, scrawled in Alex’s terrible handwriting is the word, _thanks_.

## three.

Alex told Michael that he was through catering to his death wish, and Michael told Alex to stay out of things that were no longer his concern, as he turned and stopped a fist with his face.

Kyle had checked him over and had told him that he was lucky that the punch hadn’t been higher because with the force behind it the fucker who had punched him unconscious would have probably killed him.

Alex had been a stony presence throughout that entire conversation and when Michael had smiled at him and said, “See, I’m all good,” Alex had just glared.

Michael had tried to apologize, but Alex hadn’t wanted to hear it, probably because he knew that Michael wouldn’t actually mean it.

He had just given Michael a look that spoke of payback, and Michael had naively thought that that meant that Alex was going to continuously show up and ruin his fun at the bar.

He hadn’t expected Alex to basically start a riot in the middle of the Wild Pony.

Alex walks into the bar, and Michael is about one hundred percent sure that he somehow manages to do it in slow motion, but it could also be the fact that Michael has _never_ seen Alex dressed like that.

Alex had started dressing differently, more like a grown up version of his style back in highschool, full of blacks and dark palettes and a leather jacket that has Michael’s hands itching to feel the material right against his bare skin, but it was still a little conservative, not too out there, even while he was dating that punk with the weird hair, Woods or whatever.

But this, this is on a whole other level.

Alex walks into the bar in a pair of tight leather pants, a scrap of fabric posing as a shirt in a pink only seen in an eighties video, skin sparkling like he was covered in glitter, which could be a possibility, his eyes lined heavily in black, and lips stained too pink in a way that tells Michael that he’s definitely wearing lipgloss.

He doesn’t even pause as he walks straight to the back, where Maria stares at him with a look on her face like she can’t believe what Alex is doing, but has resigned herself to it, and it takes Michael a few more minutes than it would normally to get an inkling of exactly what Alex is doing.

Walking into this bar in particular, full of small minded townies, dressed like he walked out of Michael’s fantasies, is an invitation for disaster, and Michael sees it the moment someone walks in front of him and cuts his view of Alex.

He looks around the room, and counts at least twenty disgusted faces and five in particular that are cracking their knuckles like they’re gearing up for a fight.

Michael turns his gaze back to Alex who is leaning against the bar and showing off how excellent his ass looks in those leather pants.

Alex says something to Maria that makes her laugh, bright and happy which sends a murmur throughout the room like a wave since no one ever makes Maria laugh like that, which confuses small minded people.

Michael can feel the smile twitching at the corner of his lips at whatever it is that Alex told Maria, since it was bound to be hilarious, and then the smile falls off his face as Alex turns to the guy standing next to him looking like he swallowed a whole lemon and says something that makes the guy go red and turn to Alex, teeth gritted, fists clenched.

He’s stopped from stepping forward by Maria before Michael can even get to them, and the guy just huffs out a breath and moves away from Alex.

“-because it looks like that’s what kind of trouble you’re looking for,“ Maria is saying as Michael walks up to them.

"I didn’t even do anything,” Alex says, scoffing and taking the shot that Maria had just set down in front of him.

“I highly doubt that,” Michael says as he leans next to Alex on the bar.

Alex tilts his head at Maria and whatever look is on his face makes her snicker, before he turns to face Michael.

“Hello trouble,” he greets Michael with, leaning towards him a little, and smiling charmingly, while his shirt drops lower on his shoulder. “Have you found the guy who’s going to knock you unconscious next?”

Michael makes a face and turns to Maria, who raises her hands like she doesn’t know what’s going on, and she’s not going to do anything to stop it.

Michael just shakes his head and turns back to Alex who just finished taking his shot and licks his lips clean as he looks somewhere behind Michael’s shoulder.

Michael can hear the commotion as someone who has seen Alex fight stops their friend from starting something at Alex’s blatant flirting.

“No,” Michael says sarcastically. “But I see five that are getting ready to gang up and take you on together.”

“Oh,” Alex says, voice going campy in a way that Michael has never heard anywhere outside of TV shows. “A gangbang! How exciting!”

Maria laughs so loud and hard that she drops down behind the bar, and Michael can hear her practically dying.

Michael looks around the room and sees a group of about five guys going redder than they were before.

Michael leans in a little bit closer to hiss in a low voice, “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

Alex in turn leans even closer, until Michael can feel the heat of him, and he whispers in a low voice that sounds entirely too seductive and hooks right into Michael’s navel making him sway even closer.

“I think that I’m doing exactly what you do, except maybe a bit more flamboyant.”

Michael’s gaze drops to Alex’s lips, and lower to his throat, and even lower to the way his chest is exposed in that shirt and realizes that yes, Alex is definitely wearing body glitter.

“I never try to seduce the male half of the bar,” Michael says mostly to himself, but Alex’s lips quirk into a smirk.

“I’m not trying to seduce them,” he says, and Michael furrows his brow, feeling a lot confused, but mostly turned on.

“Then what-?”

Alex suddenly pitches forward, crashing into Michael, and Michael keeps him steady on his feet before he turns to glare at the asshole who knocked into him.

The man is big, built like a brickhouse and almost as big as one. His head is shaved, and there are enough tattoos running down his arms to put him directly in the far right fascist wing.

Michael had tried to pick a fight with this guy before, and he had just told Michael that he wasn’t worth the effort, but now he seems like he’d be delighted to punch him into a pulp.

Michael is about to just tell him that they’re not trying to start anything, but Alex apparently is trying to start something.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he asks turning around to face the guy, not even phased when he has to tilt his head back to look him in the eyes. 

Michael doesn’t know how Alex does it, but it seems like he’s looking down at this giant who is probably about one entire foot taller than him.

“I’ll tell you what my problem is,” he starts, and Alex raises a hand in the air to stop him from speaking.

“I actually don’t care what your problem is,” he says, and Michael can see the guy clenching his jaw. “Keep your hands off the merchandise, unless you’re planning to see it all, up close and personal.”

His voice goes a little breathy at the end as he tilts his head and drags his gaze down, before he dismisses him,

The giant just attacks, moving forward immediately, and before Michael can do or say anything, Alex is pushing them both out of the way, and the guy goes crashing into the stools.

“Hey!” Maria yells, but Michael can barely pay attention when two guys seemingly pop out of nowhere and start throwing punches at Alex, who fights back immediately, using all of his considerable skills, but it doesn’t stop him from getting hit, and Michael feels his blood begin to boil at the pained grunt that manages to fall out of his mouth before he’s punching the fucker in the face.

Michael moves to help him, when someone pulls him back, and he sees that it’s one of the other guys, who immediately throws him back against one of the tables, and moves to punch him, but Michael isn’t nearly drunk enough to be sloppy, and he’s seen Alex fight enough times that he picked up a few moves.

He manages to punch the guy hard enough that blood spurts out of his nose, and he howls covering his face and turning his back to Michael, and Michael turns back towards where Alex is to find half of the bar fighting.

Before he can make a move to find Alex, there is a sharp whistle ringing out across the room, and everyone turns to where Maria is standing on top of the bar holding a shotgun.

“The next person to throw a punch is going to get shot right in the kneecap, and I’d like to remind you all that I’ve been the county sharp shooting champ for the last six years running.”

There is a low murmur of acquiescence, and so Maria swings the shotgun to the three guys sporting enough bruising that Michael knows Alex was the one who had dealt with them.

“Now, you four have five seconds to get out of my bar, and not come back for the foreseeable future, one-”

She starts and they scramble to move, and Michael looks around searching for Alex and all he sees is his back as he ducks into the backroom.

Michael would leave well enough alone, but he sees it when Alex limps and that’s enough for him to make his way across the room before he’s even aware of it.

He gets to the door before it closes shut behind Alex and slips into the room.

Alex turns around when the door squeaks as he pushes it open and just sighs when he sees that it’s Michael.

Michael gets a good look at his face and he takes note of the split lip, and the cut on his forehead from someone’s ring probably and the way his eye is swelling and like any time that he’s seen Alex hurt, it sends a sick feeling through him, but curiously it also sends rage spreading through his veins, making him clench his jaw and tighten his fingers to fists.

Alex just rolls his eyes at him, not hiding his wince too well as he turns back around and heads towards the back of the backroom where the employee bathroom is and where Michael knows Maria keeps a fully stocked first aid kit.

Michael stalks after him, and just watches as Alex pulls the kit down, balancing it on the toilet as he uses the tiny mirror over the sink to look at the damage. He sees him wince again, and shuffle his feet awkwardly, and Michael knows that his leg is bothering him.

He just exhales roughly, and then takes a deep breath.

“Sit down,” he tells Alex as he walks into the small space and pushes him towards the toilet seat while taking the first aid kit and settling it down on top of the sink.

Alex does as he is told, and stretches his right leg out, making a low relieved sound that should make Michael happy, but just sends rage spiraling through him again.

Michael patches him up wordlessly, not trusting himself to not start yelling as soon as he opens his mouth, and the sick feeling in his stomach gets stronger as Alex just lets him without saying anything.

He wonders if this is how Alex feels whenever he has to patch Michael up after a fight, this sick feeling warring with pure rage at the fact that he got hurt, but it was something that could’ve been avoided.

Alex didn’t have to start a fight tonight, but he’d gotten dressed with that goal in mind, and it had worked.

Michael knows that _he’s_ done this before, has gone after some guy’s girl just to have an excuse to get into a fight with someone, because sometimes he feels so fucking helpless and the only thing that he feels like he can control is this, instigating a fight with a stranger even if he gets punched for his efforts because he _made_ it happen, it wasn’t just something that happened _to_ him.

He knows that it’s not a good thing, but he’s never had healthy coping mechanisms, and this is what Michael does when he feels like everything is out of his control.

But Alex doesn’t. Alex very much doesn’t instigate fights with assholes just begging to punch him in the face. He boxes or he runs or he teaches self defense at the rec center or he makes plans to infiltrate government facilities.

But this, this is something that _Michael_ would do, and it hits him square in the chest, that that’s the only reason that Alex had done it.

He presses the last butterfly stitch on Alex’s forehead and grabs one of the icy cool gel packs, cracking it to activate it and then presses it over Alex’s eye, “Hold that.”

Alex does, and Michael just tosses the bloody gauze in the garbage and he stares at Alex for a second, who is looking anywhere but at him, like he wants to avoid this conversation for as long as possible.

“What were you trying to prove?” Michael snaps, and Alex’s gaze jumps to him and then away just as fast. “That I’m not the only one who can start a fight, because you proved that and more. Those guys are going to be pissed that they’re banned from the bar for at least the next week. They’re going to go after you again, and you just-”

“I can take care of myself, Guerin,” Alex says, finally actually looking at him.

“That’s not the point!” Michael yells, and then steps away from Alex, taking a deep breath and trying to figure out the words to make Alex understand what he’s feeling.

“Do you think that I care if you can defend yourself or not? All you need to do is make one mistake. All that needs to happen is for one of them to get a lucky shot at your leg, and you’re down for the count. Those bastard homophobic racist assholes will use this as a reason to kill you, and all you have to say is that you can take care of yourself?!”

Alex gives him a look that speaks volumes about how many times Alex has given Michael a similar speech, and Michael feels the air rush out of him. Kyle’s voice in his head tells him that he’s being a hypocrite, again, but Michael ignores that.

“So you did this to what? Teach me a lesson?” Michael says, feeling oddly breathless.

“No,” Alex says moving in his seat so that he’s fully facing Michael, looking oddly regal even with a black eye and while sitting on a toilet seat. “I did this to show you how I feel, since you don’t seem to get that your actions, especially when they’re self destructive, affect all of us. And also, you need to find better ways at dealing. I get that you’re upset that your miracle cure only worked so well, but you can’t just go around being so reckless, you’re going to get yourself seriously hurt.”

Michael stares at him in silence for a long moment, before he licks his lips and moves back, feeling like the room is getting too small. “And if I don’t?”

Alex swallows hard and then gets to his feet, tossing the ice pack aside and looking at Michael with his messed up face and the bruise forming on his shoulder. 

“Then I guess you’re going to be too busy following me around, because until you stop, I won’t.”

Michael scoffs, shaking his head as he looks away before he turns back to Alex mouth open to speak, but he stops at the look on Alex’s face.

He looks deadly serious.

“You can’t be serious,” Michael says flatly after a second.

Alex just keeps looking at him, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

Michael just scoffs again, “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, Guerin,” Alex says taking a step forward, hands falling to his sides.

“Are you actually threatening me?” He asks, sounding incredulous.

“No,” Alex says. “I’m telling you what’s going to happen. You want to self destruct. Fine, go right ahead. But you should know, that for every single time that you get punched I will go pick a fight with someone twice my size.”

Michael glares at him a little, “How are your supervisors going to feel when you start coming into work with bruises?”

Alex just shrugs a little, “I’m on temporary leave because I got shot during the last mission.”

“You got _what_?” Michael demands, forgetting momentarily that he’s mad at Alex for trying to manipulate him.

Alex’s eyes flicker to his leg, and that’s enough of an answer for Michael.

“It’s just a graze,” he says, like that makes it any better.

Michael just turns away from him and paces in place.

He already knows what he’s going to do and is just delaying the inevitable because he hates that Alex still has this power over him, that he would do anything to make sure that he wouldn’t get hurt.

Michael turns to face him and shakes his head, letting his hands fall to his sides as he stares at Alex, defeated. “Fine, you win.”

Alex’s shoulders drop as the tension floods out of him, and Michael just licks his lips and keeps talking.

“You’re already putting yourself in danger because of me,” he says voice caustic. “I really don’t want to add another reason.”

Alex just sighs and gives Michael an exasperated look, “I already told you. Me reupping had nothing to do-”

“If it wasn’t for the fact that you need the access to deal with Project Shepherd, would you have even considered it?”

Alex gives him a stony look, but doesn’t actually say anything which is more than enough confirmation.

Michael just shakes his head and turns away from him.

“I know that right now you’re probably pissed that I’m making you do this,” Alex says after a few seconds of silence. “But I’m not going to apologize for it. I hate to see you get hurt, and I will do everything and anything to prevent that from happening.”

Michael licks his lips and looks back at him, “Why?”

Alex just gives him a confused look, and Michael scoffs.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Michael says taking a step towards Alex and stepping firmly into his personal space.

Alex doesn’t even seem to notice as he tilts his head and narrows his eyes.

“If I knew what you were talking about I wouldn’t have asked,” Alex says through gritted teeth.

Michael just shakes his head again and feels bitter amusement fill him up, “Why does what I do affect you so much? We’re barely even friends.”

Alex seems to freeze, looking at him with wide eyes that seem to say, _I can’t believe you would ask me that._

Michael wants to snap back that, _of course I have to ask, I’m not a mind reader._

Alex straightens up and gives him a look that very clearly says, _you kind of are a mind reader._

Michael just rolls his eyes.

Alex just shakes his head a little, looking away from Michael, before he exhales roughly and turns back to face him, a determined glint in his eyes.

“I care about you, okay?” he says, and Michael stops moving, staring at Alex with wide eyes.

“You say we’re ‘barely even friends’ because you’re being an asshole,” he states and Michael just keeps staring at him. “But you’re one of the few people in this world that I trust, and I-”

He swallows hard licking his lips and then just shakes his head again. “I never stopped loving you.”

Michael breathes in shakily, swaying slightly in place and he can’t seem to look away.

“I tried to convince myself that I did, but the truth is I can’t stop. I don’t want to.”

Michael breathes out roughly, and Alex just licks his lips swallowing hard and looks away from Michael blinking rapidly.

“But I’m not expecting you to feel the same,” he says, giving Michael a self deprecating smile. “I mean I know you don’t feel the same, but I just need you to know that I’m not doing this out of some sense of guilt, I’m doing this because you’re my family, and I love you.”

Michael just shakes his head, half of an incredulous smile on his face, before he just moves forward, crossing the space between them in two steps.

Alex takes a startled step backward, and Michael just reaches for him, digging his fingers into the back of Alex’s neck and tugging him back into place.

Alex eyes are wide with surprise, but Michael’s fall shut as their noses brush together. 

Michael hesitates briefly lips just barely brushing Alex’s and he breathes heavily, shuddering with it, and he wants to ask if he can kiss him, but Alex just whines low in the back of his throat as he wraps one arm around Michael’s waist and slides the fingers of his other hand into Michael’s hair and he tugs.

Michael gasps, and stumbles into Alex who presses their lips together, crushing his mouth to Michael’s in a hard, biting kiss.

Michael propels them backwards until Alex hits the sink, pushing his hands up into Alex’s hair and licks into Alex’s mouth, kissing him deeper.

Alex moans low in the back of his throat, hitching one leg up around Michael’s hip as Michael pushes in closer, hands restless, moving to clench against the collar of Michael’s shirt and then back up into his hair and down again.

Alex pushes him back, and parts their mouths with a gasp, breathing heavily as he stares at Michael with wide eyes, almost angry.

“What the hell kind of game are you playing, Guerin?” He asks Michael, voice desperate and cracking slightly.

Michael shakes his head, pushing his forehead against Alex’s.

“No games,” he swears, voice pleading. “I promise. This is all real.”

Alex shakes his head. “You can’t just, just _kiss_ me and expect it to fix _anything_ -”

“That’s not why I did it,” Michael says hurriedly, pulling back to look at Alex in the eyes.

Alex is looking back at him with wide, hurt eyes.

“You told me you love me, and I just, I don’t know how-”

Alex shakes his head, fingers clenching tighter in the collar of his shirt, “I _told_ you, I’m not expecting _anything_ -”

“If you think that I don’t feel the same way about you-” Michael starts feeling the left over rage from before stoking in his belly.

Alex shakes his head, pushing him back a little, until the only point of contact is his hands on Michael’s collar as Michael’s hands slide down from the back of his neck.

“This is not the fight that I was expecting to have today,” Alex says, blinking and looking around the room, as though he’s trying to get his thoughts back together.

“It doesn’t have to be a fight,” Michael says, clenching his fists at his side so that he doesn’t reach out for Alex.

“It can’t be like _this_ either,” Alex says, looking back at Michael with pleading eyes. “We can’t just fall back into bed. We need to do this right.”

Michael inhales deeply, and then nods his head once before taking a deliberate step back.

Alex’s fingers tighten in his collar, before he lets him go, taking a deep breath and clenching his hands to his sides.

“You should come with me to the gym this weekend,” Alex says carefully, and Michael’s brow furrows as he turns to look back at him.

Alex just smiles slightly, one side of his mouth curving higher than the other, “I’m sure we can find a healthy way for you to release all the pent up aggression you will have accumulated by then.”

Michael exhales roughly, and just stares at Alex for a long moment, staring at the bandages on his face and what looks like the beginnings of a seriously hideous black eye.

Alex waits patiently, and it’s that more than anything that helps Michael decide.

“Okay,” he says, nodding his head. “Okay.”

## four.

Michael feels the sting of the bullet as it grazes his side, and he hisses, slowing down enough that the fucker shooting at manages to actually get lucky.

The searing pain against his thigh makes him stumble, but he pushes through the pain and forces himself to keep moving.

It’s not until later, when they’re in the car, and Alex is speeding down the road, getting them as far away as possible, that Kyle sees the blood seeping into his jeans and starts to curse.

“What?” Alex demands, eyes darting to the rearview mirror, before he looks back to the road.

“Guerin is bleeding out,” he says and then pulls his shirt over his head and bundles it up to use it to slow the bleeding.

“I’m not bleeding out,” Michael says, going for glib, but it was difficult to manage when he was gritting his teeth to stop himself from screaming. “I just got shot a little bit.”

The car swerves, “You were shot?” Alex yells.

“Don’t you start, Mr. It’s Just a Tiny Scrape, when you were actually stabbed,” Kyle snaps, sounding highly distressed about his friends’ mortality rate.

“You were stabbed?” Michael questions moving forward to see if he could catch Alex’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Lightly stabbed,” Alex answers like there is any difference, but he refuses to look back at Michael which tells him that it’s serious.

Kyle makes a sound like someone died in front of him, “We need to go straight to the hospital, I think the bullet nicked his femoral artery.”

Alex pushes down on the gas.

Michael turns to Kyle. “How is he, really?”

Kyle gives him a look like he’s highly doubting his intelligence. “You need to worry about you right now, not Alex.”

Michael gives him a look that he hopes tells Kyle exactly where he can put that sentiment, and Kyle rolls his eyes and presses harder against his thigh, making Michael grit his teeth.

“He needs stitches but as long as he doesn’t do anything to aggravate the bandages I wrapped around him, he’s not going to bleed out. You on the other hand-”

He trails off, and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

He dials a number too fast for Michael to see, and then lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey Liz,” he says, and Michael groans, letting his head fall back against the back of his seat, and closes his eyes.

Michael’s not entirely sure how Alex does it, but they end up at the hospital way sooner than Michael had thought possible.

Liz is waiting in the parking lot with a wheelchair and a seriously worried expression on her face.

Alex stops the car, parking haphazardly, and getting out without even turning the car off.

He opens the door and Michael pulls away from Kyle, making him curse, but get out through the other door.

Alex is glaring at him, and Michael finds the bloody stain on his shirt, too wet and too red for Michael’s liking.

“I told you to stay in the car,” Alex says.

“Oh, I thought that ‘no one ever brings a knife to a gunfight, Guerin,’” Michael says at the same time.

Alex makes a petulant face, and Michael glares, “You lied to me.”

“Yes,” Alex snaps. “Because you would’ve gotten out of the car otherwise! I should’ve known that you decided to do whatever the fuck you wanted anyway!”

“They sent some sort of distress signal that I felt! Was I just supposed to ignore it!?” Michael snaps back, pushing to move out of the car, but Alex stays right in his way, resolute.

“Yes!” Alex says, like it was the obvious choice. “You _knew_ that they were working with alien tech! I told you that they could have traps we’ve never seen before!”

“But what if it hadn’t been a trap!” Michael insists, lifting the arm that didn’t hurt when he moved it and pushing Alex back.

“Well, obviously it _was_!”

“Well, obviously-” Michael starts and then someone is tugging Alex backwards.

“Sorry to interrupt this scintillating conversation,” Kyle says as he walks Alex backwards a few steps. “But we need to get inside where the equipment to stop you both from bleeding out is located.”

Michael exhales roughly, and sees Alex pushing Kyle away, and then wincing as the move pulls at the wound on his side.

He looks to Liz who looks at him like she’s trying to figure out how to force him into the chair, but he just waves her over and goes willingly.

Kyle drags Alex along, and Isobel is standing by the nurse’s station at the front, distracting the nurse in charge, in order for them to get to the elevator without getting stopped. From the way that the guard just presses the elevator button to the floor where Liz’s lab is located, Michael can tell that Isobel already turned her charms on him as well.

Michael closes his eyes and exhales slowly once they get inside of the elevator, trying to ignore the pain radiating from his thigh and from his left arm and how his head feels so heavy and so light at the same time.

His eyes snap open as multiple hands grab him and place him on a table.

“Is there an exit wound?” Kyle asks sounding like he’s far away, and Michael looks around and finds Alex, Liz and Jenna standing over him.

Alex and Jenna move him to his side, and Alex shakes his head.

“No exit wound,” he says and they set him back on his back, and Alex winces, and Michael reaches towards him, fingers wrapping in the collar of his shirt.

“Shouldn’t Valenti be stitching up the hole in your side?” He asks, swallowing hard to stop himself from screaming as Jenna and Liz make quick work on getting his pants off.

Alex gives him an incredulous look, “If you think that I’m going to let Kyle take care of me first, when you have a _bullet_ inside of-”

Michael shuts his eyes tightly, and almost bites down through his tongue.

“We need acetone,” Alex is saying, moving away from the table, and Michael’s fingers tighten on his shirt, keeping him in place.

Michael turns back to face him, and Alex is staring at his leg with wide eyes almost too big for his face, and Michael would think that the paleness of his skin is from shock, he can see the way that he started to bleed through his bandages.

He tugs hard on Alex’s shirt, and Alex’s eyes drop to him.

“Stitches,” he grits out.

Alex stares at him for a long second, before his face falls into Competitive Bitch Face Number Three, “You first.”

Michael feels a pinch in his elbow and then something icy cool flooding his veins. It takes just a few seconds for the numbing feeling to spread through him, and he exhales finally not feeling whatever it was that Jenna was doing his thigh.

He hears the clank of the bullet falling into the pan and turns a glare on Alex.

“This isn’t you skipping lunch so that I actually eat dinner,” he says, and Alex rolls his eyes. “You’re actually bleeding.”

“And you’re going to die if you don’t stop worrying about me,” Alex says, trying to look stern, but his voice cracks right down the middle, and he inhales sharply, and then grunts in pain, leaning over Michael.

“Never,” Michael says feeling like he should be feeling more with Alex in pain, but his head is beginning to feel like it’s disconnected from the rest of his body, like he’s floating right above himself.

He exhales, and hears Jenna’s voice sharply calling out Alex’s name, and then his grip on Alex’s shirt loosens, and he passes out.

-

“Can you stop already?” Kyle’s voice in his ear is the first thing that he’s actually conscious about. 

He vaguely remembers waking up before briefly, and seeing Alex asleep in a bed right beside him, his shirt off to show Michael that his bandages were fresh and white, and then passing out again.

He feels the tugging on the sheets covering him stop and then the air displacement as someone drops down into the seat to his right.

“I’m just-” Alex starts, but Kyle cuts him off immediately.

“Worried, I know, but his freaky alien DNA along with the acetone are doing wonders with accelerated healing. You’re far worse off than he is.”

Alex just sighs like he’s been listening to this same argument for a while, and Michael can hear the squeak of the chair as he gets more comfortable.

“And,” he continues pointedly. “You’re refusing to listen to me. If you mess up your stitches because you didn’t stay still-”

Michael blinks his eyes open and then groans as bright lights flood his vision.

“Michael,” Alex’s voice is soft and desperate, and when Michael blinks his eyes open again, Alex is leaning over him, eyes wide and worried.

“Hey,” Michael croaks, feeling like his throat is too dry.

Alex must realize as he moves and comes back with a cup and a straw.

Michael sips some water, and Alex just stares at him looking so relieved there’s even a small smile on his face.

He moves the cup away when Michael lets go of the straw, and sets it aside.

“How are you feeling?” Alex asks. “Does anything hurt?”

Michael just clears his throat and darts a look to where Kyle is watching them with a fond but exasperated look on his face.

“Why aren’t you listening to the doctor?”

Alex scoffs and drops back into his seat, and Michael can see the wince as the move pulls against his stitches.

“Of course you _would_ take his side on this,” Alex says, and Michael rolls his eyes and shares a look with Kyle who gives Michael a look back as if to say that he is equally as bad as Alex.

“You are notoriously bad at taking care of yourself,” Michael says, and Alex just sucks his teeth and turns away from him, looking up at the silent TV playing in the corner of the room.

Michael turns back to Kyle who pushes away from the far wall, and comes to check him over.

“So what’s the prognosis, doc?” he asks, and Kyle just rolls his eyes as he pulls the sheets down to check his thigh. “Will I make it?”

“Unfortunately,” Kyle deadpans. “You’ll make a full recovery. Much faster than I was anticipating since this is the first time one of you gets seriously injured and Max isn’t there to immediately heal you.”

Michael nods his head, “And what about the stubborn idiot who refuses to listen to his doctor?”

Alex mocks him under his breath, but doesn’t even try to defend himself.

“He’ll also make a full recovery as long as he doesn’t do anything to aggravate his stitches,” Kyle says a little pointedly.

Alex just rolls his eyes again, and slumps down in his seat in a way that _has_ to be uncomfortable.

Kyle makes a noise, and Michael looks back at him, to see him giving Alex a look like he’s decided to give up on. 

“I’m going to finish my rounds,” he says as he starts to walk out of the door. “I’ll be by once I’m done.”

“And no,” he says and Michael can feel Alex exhaling in defeat. “You cannot go home yet.”

The door closes with a soft snick behind him, and Michael inhales deeply, and then turns and looks at Alex, leaning heavily on the judgement and hoping that he actually feels it.

It takes five minutes for Alex to snap.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he says, turning to glare at Michael.

“I’ll stop when you stop being such a fucking idiot,” Michael answers back.

“ _I’m_ an idiot?” he says and stands up to lean over Michael. _“I’m an idiot!_ You’re the idiot who decided not to tell anyone anything when you realized that you were walking into a trap!”

“I would’ve told you if I didn’t think that you would come running without any backup!”

“You can’t just make decisions that will affect your well being, just because you think that I _might_ get hurt!”

“If I knew that I could trust you _not_ to sacrifice yourself for my well being then I wouldn’t even think twice about telling you when I’m in trouble!”

“The only reason that you were in trouble in the first place is because you will senselessly martyr yourself in order to protect me, so don’t even _talk_ to me about sacrifice!”

“You’re calling _me_ a martyr, when you’re the one who went back for seconds to the damn Air Force all because-”

“Yes, I did do that!” Alex says cutting him off, already knowing where this argument is going since they’ve had it what feels like a hundred times. “But that doesn’t mean that you need to do the same thing!”

“If you think that I won’t sacrifice my life to keep you safe, then you have another thing coming,” Michael grits out, and Alex shakes his head fast, thumping his fist down on the side of Michael’s bed.

“I don’t accept that!” he grits out. “I won’t! None of this is worth it if you aren’t safe, don’t you get that!”

“Don’t you get that I don’t care about being safe if you’re not!”

Alex makes a low frustrated sound and turns around.

Michael moves to go after him, and groans as the quick motion of him attempting to swing his legs to the floor, causes what feels like fire to spread across his right thigh, up to his hip and down to his knee.

Alex turns around immediately and pushes Michael back to lie down. 

“Are you insane?” he demands, once Michael is lying back and making attempts not to move his leg at all.

Michael just licks his lips and shrugs a little. “This is usually the part in the argument where you kiss me to shut me up.”

Alex just sighs and shakes his head, before he gives Michael a mock sorrowful look. “I would, but bending over aggravates my stitches and someone told me that I need to listen to my doctor.”

Michael just rolls his eyes, “Of course, you pick _now_ to listen to the doctor.”

Alex stays silent for a long moment before he sits back down on the seat, and drops his head to the free space on Michael’s bed, right by his hip and Michael tips his chin down a little to stare at him.

Alex breathes out quietly and then starts to speak, in a low voice that Michael almost can’t make out.

“You really scared me. You passed out and stopped breathing for a minute there. I thought that you were going to die.”

Michael sighs, and reaches out to place his hand on Alex’s head, sliding down to cup the back of his neck.

Alex moves with the touch, and turns to face him.

“You can’t do that to me again, Guerin,” he says, voice coming out rough and wet, and Michael can see the tears staining his cheeks. “You can’ti.”

Michael digs his fingers into the back of Alex’s neck.

“Okay, I won’t,” he promises, and Alex just closes his eyes tightly, shaking his head a little like he doesn’t believe him.

“Hey,” Michael says, and Alex’s eyes blink open again. “I promise you, okay? But you have to promise me that you’re going to be more careful out there. Finding out more about my planet or my people, isn’t worth it at all if it means losing you.”

Alex just swallows hard and then sniffs, before he sits back up, making Michael’s hand fall back on the bed and then grabs Michael’s hand in both of his, squeezing their fingers together tightly and then looking at Michael in the eyes.

“I promise I’ll be careful,” he whispers, and Michael just inhales deeply, nodding his head, already knowing that these are promises that they’re both probably going to break at the next available opportunity, but right now in this moment he doesn’t really care.

He feels Alex leaning his head back down beside their joined hands, and he wants to tell him to go back to his own bed, so that he can rest properly, but he doesn’t really want Alex to move. He wants to keep him as close as possible.

He tugs against Alex’s hand sleepily, and feels him lift his head. He turns towards him, and blinks at him a few times before he gives up and just closes his eyes.

“C'mere,” he says, moving over in the small space. He knew that Kyle probably wouldn’t approve, but he was pretty sure that Alex probably didn’t want to be too far either.

Alex wastes no time getting into the small hospital bed with him, lying down on his uninjured side and then carefully lying down so that his face was pressed into Michael’s throat, one arm stretched out beneath the pillow, the other lying around Michael’s waist, left leg thrown over Michael’s resting right below his knees.

Michael wraps one arm around Alex’s shoulders and settles his hand along Alex’s arm wrapped around his waist.

Alex inhales deeply and Michael blinks his eyes open to look at him.

All he can make out is the top of Alex’s head, but he knows his breathing patterns well enough by now to know that he’s falling asleep.

Michael breathes in deeply, eyes fluttering shut and falls asleep. 

## five.

Michael wakes up on his birthday with a pounding headache, a stuffy nose and feeling like something was trying to crawl out of his throat everytime he tried to cough.

Michael has never really gotten sick, so it would figure that it would happen today of all days, the first birthday they were celebrating together since Max woke up from his coma.

Alex takes one look at him when he stumbles into the kitchen to make himself a mug of tea.

His head feels fuzzy and like it’s too heavy for his body, so he doesn’t really understand the look Alex gives him as he lowers his gigantic mug of coffee.

He thinks, _fuck_ , as he turns to get at the cupboard where the mugs are and blinks rapidly.

How is he supposed to actually act like nothing’s wrong when Alex is right there already figuring out that something is wrong.

Michael grabs one of the mugs and turns around, jumping when he sees Alex standing a few feet in front of him.

He drops the mug and then catches it automatically.

It hovers in midair for a second before Alex grabs it.

Michael licks his lips, and tries not to shift guiltily when all Alex does is look at him.

Alex sighs and pushes him towards the table.

He doesn’t even ask Michael what he wants, and Michael just leans back against the counter and stares at him as he turns on the electric kettle. 

Alex makes the tea and moves him to sit down at the table and then sits down across from him and just looks at him for a second.

Michael lifts the mug to his mouth and inhales the steam.

Alex hums and Michael gives him a questioning look.

Alex seems to hesitate a little, before he speaks. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Michael says automatically, his stuffy nose making his voice sound thick.

“Obviously,” Alex says voice dripping with sarcasm. “How about we go take a nap and then call Isobel and-”

Michael moves, pushing away from the table and making it scrape along the floor, but he can still hear Alex’s sigh as he picks up his mug and moves to leave the room.

He walks back to the bedroom with as much dignity as he can muster while wearing a pair of boxers he’s pretty sure belong to Alex and a black shirt with the faded phrase _Save an Airplane, Ride an Airman_ written on it.

Michael spends the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon hole up in the bed with only Buffy to keep him company, beneath the covers, pretending he doesn’t notice when Alex leaves him medicine to take and glasses of water and tea.

He takes the medicine, and drinks the tea, but otherwise doesn’t move.

He’s hoping in vain that he’ll feel better by the time it’s time to go to Isobel’s, but he actually feels worse.

He still drags himself out of bed and into the shower and out into the living room, where Alex is waiting for him, sitting down on the couch, Buffy lying down with her head down on his lap while he scratches behind her ears.

He’s dressed up, as much as Alex dresses up anyway, and Michael clears his throat, but his voice still sounds thick when he speaks.

“Ready to go?”

Alex leans down and presses a kiss on top of Buffy’s head and then stands up carefully.

She just settles in the space he left behind already resigned to the fact that they’re going out without her.

Alex licks his lips and looks at Michael. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay home and rest?”

Michael rolls his eyes and looks around for his keys. “I rested all day. Let’s go.”

“Okay,” Alex says, sounding like he was expecting this to happen. “But I’m driving.”

“No way,” Michael says scoffing. “I’m driving.”

“Gonna be hard to do that without the keys,” Alex says, lifting his hands to show Michael that he’s holding his keys in his hands.

Michael stares at him for a second, and Alex manages to make it to the door, before Michael finally steps forward.

He reaches out with one hand, concentrating slightly, and the keys fly out of Alex’s hand, who tells him that he’s not playing fair, and Michael catches the keys in his hands about to tell him that life’s not fair, when he feels a spike go right through his head, the pain radiating from his ear all the way to the back of his neck.

He lets the keys fall on the floor, and holds on to his head until the pain subsides.

When he opens his eyes, Alex is crouched down on the floor getting the keys before he stands up slowly and just stares at Michael for a long moment.

Michael clears his throat and then just sighs, “Fine, you’re driving.”

-

Michael manages to make it through two hours before he thinks that maybe he should’ve taken Alex up on his offer to stay home.

He was mostly remaining standing because of the wall supporting his back, and he had been sipping on the same drink the entire time.

He’d mingled and then had just felt tired, but Isobel had smiled at him bright and warm, and Max had dragged him to play one of the games that they had set up in the back, and he couldn’t really find it in himself to actually leave.

Now he just stares at everyone, at Max and Liz dancing in the middle of the room, joined by Arturo and Rosa. Jenna and Kyle are on the other side of the room challenging Maria and Isobel to a game of beer pong.

It doesn’t take Michael long to realize that Alex isn’t anywhere outside.

He pushes away from the wall and sets his drink down on the nearest table before he heads inside of the house.

Isobel had decided to throw the party in Max’s backyard, and the back glass door is open wide, letting the warm air inside.

He finds Alex sitting on the couch, leg propped up on the coffee table, his prosthetic leaned on the couch right beside him. His head is tipped back against the back of the couch, and his eyes are closed, but they flutter open as he leans his head up as though he feels it when Michael steps into the room.

“You okay?” Michael asks, stepping closer to Alex, more worried about him than the fact that his head still hurts and his throat aches and he feels like he wants to take a nap for the rest of his life.

Alex just nods his head and then shrugs a little,” Just give me a few and I’ll be out there to kick Kyle’s ass.”

Michael just shakes his head a little and drops down to sit right beside Alex on the couch.

“Maria and Isobel are taking care of that,” he says, settling himself back until they’re pressed together from shoulder to thigh. “So why don’t you keep me company while I try to stop the world from spinning too fast?”

Alex makes a sort of soft cooing noise, and he moves so that he’s facing Michael, and lifts both hands to his head, gently massaging against his scalp.

Michael sighs, pressing into the touch as it seems to soothe his aching head.

“Fine,” Alex says. “I’ll stay here with you.”

Michael just presses in closer, until he’s leaning his head on Alex’s shoulder, nose buried in the soft warm skin of his neck, laying one arm across his waist, the other settled a little uncomfortably between them, but not enough for Michael to move.

Alex moves one arm to settle around his shoulders, keeping him close and keeps the other one buried in his hair, the touch lulling Michael into a dazed state.

He just breathes deeply and easily, and thinks that this is the most relaxed he’s felt all day.

Michael doesn’t really fall asleep, but he feels like maybe he’s too calm and still that Alex thinks he’s asleep.

He stops petting Michael’s hair, and Michael barely resists the urge to whine and demand he keep doing it.

He just leans heavier on Alex, who accommodates him easily.

Michael loses track of time then, he thinks maybe ten minutes pass, but it could’ve been twenty or half an hour or an hour or maybe even five hours.

Michael isn’t sure of much else but the warmth of Alex’s body against his, and his arm heavy around Michael’s shoulders and the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the way he smells like wood chips and campfire smoke and _home_ , and the low tapping sound as he plays with his phone and the occasional bursts of loud laughter coming from outside.

He thinks he hears a clicking noise and then a bright white flash. across his eyelids making him groan.

Alex drops his phone, placing his hand back in Michael’s hair and hisses in a low voice.

“If you wake him up, I swear I will kill you,” Alex threatens.

Michael doesn’t have to open his eyes to feel Isobel’s eye roll.

“You’re lucky that you’re the only person who can get him to willingly get some rest, or else I would’ve sent you away years ago.”

This time he can feel Alex’s eye roll.

Alex sighs and Michael can feel him dropping his head back on the back of the couch.

Michael presses a kiss to the warm skin of his neck, and Alex’s fingers tighten in his hair slightly.

“Go back to sleep, Guerin, we still got some time before it’s time to cut the cake.”

Michael just presses another kiss to Alex’s neck, and then settles himself back down again, nosing into Alex’s neck and exhaling gently.

Alex starts to massage his scalp again, and Michael melts into him even more, falling asleep.


End file.
